


Think Too Much

by later_than_the_rabbit



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Day At The Beach, Hurt/Comfort, John is a Good Friend, Love Confessions, Or Is It?, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert, Scars, Sherlock Needs A Hug, Sherlock is insecure, Tumblr request, Unrequited Love, a little bit, beach holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 10:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11712090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/later_than_the_rabbit/pseuds/later_than_the_rabbit
Summary: You learn about the depths of Sherlock’s mind when John, Sherlock and you holiday on the sands of Spain.





	Think Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Request: Can I get a Sherlock x reader where Sherlock, John, and the reader go to the beach, but Sherlock is self conscious about the scars on his back so the reader has to help him feel comfortable and end up confessing their feelings for each other?

When you had heard that Sherlock and John had never been on a holiday since meeting each other, you were flabbergasted for lack of a better term. After meeting John in the dark time of his grieving for Sherlock and joining their escapades after their reunion, even at Sherrinford, you had gone back to Spain more than a few times. You loved the warmth that resided there and seemed to never leave, the sun beaming down on the stone buildings and sand like it could never do in England. When Sherlock and John both said that they haven’t been on a holiday for years in light conversation one summer's day at 221B, your jaw dropped. “You haven’t been on a holiday for how long?”

“Well, my last one was with my family to our estate up north when I was young.” Sherlock seemed completely bored with the conversation, opting to stare and type on his phone instead. You rolled your eyes as John tried to recall his last holiday; his eyes scrunched up in concentration as he searched through his memories. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders at you, flipping the paper he was reading out straight again.

“I think my last one was back before I began university.”

“That’s ages ago!” You threw your hands up into the air as you tried to fathom not escaping life for such a long time. John looked at you in mock hurt, the effect being ruined as he began to smirk through the facade.

“Oi! It wasn’t that long ago. I’m not that old yet.”

“Yes it is and yes you are. That was years ago.” You sighed out dramatically and laid out on the couch, your arm sitting over your eyes. “I can’t believe it’s been over a decade since your last holiday guys. That’s pathetic.” Sherlock scoffed and John chuckled at your theatrics. You sat in your position for a little longer when an idea struck your thoughts. You gasped loudly and stood abruptly, beginning to gather your coat and belongings from around the flat. “That settles it!”

“Settles what? Where are you going?” John set his paper aside and looked to you curiously. Sherlock hadn’t moved since you began to pack your things, though his previous typing had now ceased.

“We are all going to my house in Spain for a well deserved holiday.”

“Wha- you have a holiday house?” You scoffed along with Sherlock and John became more and more confused.

“Of course she has a holiday home John, where else do you think she stays when she leaves the country?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe a hotel like normal people?”

“Boring.”

“Yeah and I’m hardly normal John. Anyways, it was my parent’s before they left it to me. It’s beautiful, really, you’re going to love it. This is going to be great!” Your voice had become louder by the end of the sentence, like a crescendo in Sherlock’s music, it rose with your excitement.

“We’re not really doing this are we?” John’s mouth was quirked at the edges as he took in your bubbling body, his excitement being fuelled by your own. 

“Yes we are my dear friend. Pack your bags and sort your affairs for the next two weeks boys, we leave by the end of this week!” You spun out of the flat quickly and began to mumble your thoughts to yourself unconsciously. You flew down the stairs and left the building and men behind, both of them slightly confused as to what had just happened. John shrugged his shoulders and planned to take the next few weeks off, a smile gracing his face as he looked towards the near future whereas Sherlock stood and went to the window to watch you on the pavement as you practically jumped on the spot and waved down a cab, a stone settling in his stomach as he thought of the weeks to come.

\-----------------------------------------------

You drove the rental car from the airport towards the direction of your parents past home, knowing the road like the back of your hand. The windows were down and the warm sea air filled your lungs, making you smile as you curved around the bends and approached the more familiar roads of your childhood. You had the radio tuned to a station which played the upbeat music you had grown up to, your fingers unconsciously tapping out the rhythm on the steering wheel.

John sat in the front with you, sunglasses perched on his nose and his usual sweater replaced with a light tee shirt. His elbow rested on the open window and his longer hair ruffled in the wind. He was tapping out the beat of the music along with you, though slightly off time. You giggled as you heard him trying to mumble some of the lyrics under his breath and you started to sing with him as the sun shone down on the ocean to your left and you grew nearer to your destination, your smile growing wider as you saw John smiling beside you. Sherlock had opted to sit in the back behind John and had similarly ditched his beloved belstaff, though he had done so reluctantly. He watched you driving along, carefree and glowing in the front, completely captivated.

Your body was illuminated by the brilliant sunlight, causing your already tanned skin to become golden and your light brown hair to shine. Your brown eyes would have become endless if not for your own pair of sunglasses keeping the glare of the sun at bay. You didn’t see him smile to himself as you sang along with John in the front, the smile fading as he looked out the window to see the blue of the ocean and the white of the sand. You seemed so happy in the front with John and he knew that he could never be there like that for you. He became lost in his thoughts and didn’t notice the scenery passing him until the car slowed and turned to the right. He shook his head and looked back around, seeing that you had now reached the house you were staying in as you drove slowly up the stone driveway.

“Jesus Y/N, I wasn’t expecting this.” John took off his sunglasses and looked at the expansive house with wide eyes and an opened mouth. You giggled at his gobsmacked expression and parked the car at the front. “Were your parents, you know...”

“What?”

“Rich?”

Your breath left your lungs in a breathy chuckle and you lightly shook your head as you pulled up in front of the stone house. “Rich? Yeah a little bit, though not as much as Sherly here. What do you think Sherl?” You twisted your body around to address Sherlock, your glasses slipping down enough for your chocolate brown eyes to peer over the top.

“Beautiful.” You smiled warmly at him before turning back around to take your seatbelt off, not seeing that his eyes had hardly glanced at the house and rather remained fixated on you.

“Thanks Sherl. Well, I’ll show you guys which rooms you’ll be staying in. I’ll have to fetch the sheets and towels for you but I had an old friend go and buy food and stuff for us, so we don’t need to do anything like that. Which reminds me I need to pay them back sometime...” You once again began to mumble as you popped the boot and took out some bags and began to take them inside, John tagging behind trying to retake his bag from your hands. Sherlock heard your laugh come from inside the house as well as a few choice expletives and John’s name come from your lips when he caused you to crash at the stairs inside. Sherlock shook his head as he heard you playfully scold John. He looked up at the gorgeous house you were all staying in, tension blooming within his body when he heard the crash of gentle waves behind him and yours and John’s laughter grow inside.

Your parents had lived nearby the white sands of Spain, in a large house by the blue water of the Alboran Sea before they passed away. They were wealthy enough to own the land around their home and some of the beach that they resided by. Sherlock could understand why you were so passionate about coming here at least once a year. Sentiment he would used to say.

You had told him and John about your childhood in this house on the way here, how you had learned to swim in the gentle waves of the ocean, under the blazing sun on the coast. He let his mind wander until he heard your footsteps on the gravel approaching. He picked up the bag you had left in the car hastily, your bag it turned out, before he closed the boot and looked down at your figure.

“You okay Sherl?” You placed your hand on his arm in concern as you looked up at his face. “You kinda spaced out for a bit there.”

“I’m fine Y/N. Just thinking.” You giggled a little and smiled brightly up at him and took the bag from his hands, replacing it with your own hand. His heart skipped a beat and a warm smile grew upon his face as you began to take him into the house.

“You’re always thinking too much Sherl. It’s a holiday, just relax. I’ve put us all in some rooms upstairs facing the ocean. You’re in between me and John. Your’s has the nicest view.” You blushed as you rambled about the views on your way to the room Sherlock would be staying in. He didn’t take his eyes off you as you led him upstairs, causing your blush to deepen as you opened the door to his room. You had already gone and gotten bedding and such for Sherlock when you had gone in with John and it sat on the corner of the bed, folded neatly into a pile with his bag resting below it on the ground.

You stood back and looked to Sherlock, your reddened cheeks having cooled a bit as he glanced around at the room. “So here it is. The bathroom is just down the hall, though I’m sure you could have found it yourself.” You coughed at the slight awkwardness of the situation and shuffled around on your feet. “Kitchen and living room are downstairs and, well I’m sure you can find your way around anyways. I’m just going to put my bag away and unpack a bit. Make yourself at home though! I think John is downstairs getting some stuff to eat ready.” You waved a little as you left the room and began to head off to your room yet before Sherlock had the chance to open his bag and begin to unpack, you popped your head back around the door frame, a brilliant grin on your face. “We were also thinking of going swimming after we’ve all unpacked so you may want to get into your swimmers as well!”

The stone that had resided in Sherlock’s stomach became heavy as you mentioned swimming. Sherlock’s mouth went dry and he tried to swallow down the lump that had grown in his throat. “I don’t think I’ll be going in the ocean today.” He had expected you to at least be disappointed, seeing as you were practically jumping with joy at the idea of splashing around in the ocean with him and John, however you waved your hand at him and only smiled a little softer.

“No worries Sherl. We’ve got heaps of time here so maybe a bit later. I’m going to head down there pretty soon though with John. You’ll know where to find me if you need.” You blew a kiss and went into your room to change. Sherlock’s face grew fiery. He sat heavily on the bed and flopped down backwards, his hands scrubbing his face and his breath leaving his body in a long sigh. This was going to be a long holiday.

\-----------------------------------------------

It had been nearly a week since you had all arrived in Spain. You and John had been in the ocean at least three times each day, soaking up the rays of warm Spanish sun and competing against each other to a range of beach-y challenges, beach cricket being a particular favourite between the two of you. It was during one such challenge of one-on-one rugby when you realised that Sherlock had hardly been down to the beach with the two of you during the entire trip. You had looked up to the house briefly as you ran from John when you saw Sherlock, in the same place as he was every time you went to the sand. You stopped, holding the rugby ball to your body and your wide smile dropping significantly. John, who had been about to tackle you saw your changed mood and also stopped, his grin dropping to accommodate for his confusion. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing really, but… have you noticed anything wrong about Sherlock lately? He seems… sad.” You looked forlornly to the house and sat in the sand, your back to the sea and the sea foam barely brushing against your skin. John came and sat beside you, resting his elbows back so they would be caressed by the waves. He hummed a little in thought yet he shook his head.

“No I don’t think so. He’s his usual pompous self though in a tee shirt rather than a suit.” You smiled a little as he spoke however you weren’t reassured.

“But whenever I ask him to come to the beach with us, he always has something else to do, or he just stays at the house on the deck.”

“Well that’s not really a problem Y/N.” John closed his eyes and tipped his head back to bask in the sun and you stretched your legs out, the warmth of the rays making you hum in content. Your thighs brushed against John’s as you moved out to soak up as much sun as possible.

“Yeah but it’s not like he has a case or anything he’s working on. He told me that he only took a couple of cold cases that he could do from here.”

“Well he’s probably working on those.”

“Thing is, he finished those three days ago.” You looked down to John’s face, your eyes filled with worry as you saw John’s features change from relaxed to furrowed with concern.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. He told me all about how he had solved them all one night.” John pouted and laid back along the sand, crossing his arms over his bare chest as a petulant child would, the water lapping along his sides and making his hair sway slightly.

“He didn’t tell me.”

“You were asleep. It was that day we went and swam at least five kilometres cause you thought it’d be fun, you nutter.”

“Oh yeah. I was so sore the day after.” He grinned and you chuckled at him as you remembered that day, not being able to move for anything and staying on the couch with John all day whilst Sherlock looked amused whenever you asked him for something simple. You looked up to the house and sighed, seeing that Sherlock was still out on the deck as he had always been whenever you had gone out to the beach. You nodded your head towards him which caused John to look up at the house as well. Waving your hand at Sherlock, you spoke again to John, smiling sadly when Sherlock waved back but didn’t make his way to the sand. You lay down beside John and let the sea caress your skin.

“See? He’s missing out on the entire trip pretty much, up there all alone.”

“Well that’s not really for us to decide. He might just not like the beach. Just let him be. Come on. I bet I can reach that buoy behind us and be back here before you.” John stood and helped you up out of the sand. You chuckled and pushed him playfully as you brushed sand off your thighs and calves and picked up the discarded rugby ball, looking back at the house one last time, seeing that Sherlock was no longer on his chair.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that again. How about we keep playing beach rugby instead?”

“Sure, but you do know that you’re so gonna lose.” You laughed and threw him the ball to start the game once more.

“Not for long. You’re in for it Watson.”

“We’ll see Y/L/N.”

\-----------------------------------------------

He was going out of his mind. Seeing you down at the beach everyday with John, enjoying life with the brightest smile on your face when he couldn’t be down there with you, it was tearing him apart from the inside out. He had finished all his cases days ago and now there was nothing he could use an an excuse to keep you from suspecting his insecurities.

He couldn’t help himself though. Your house was beautiful, the weather sublime and you, and you… you were as radiant as the sun and just as alluring. Whenever you were going down to the ocean, even if it was ridiculously early, Sherlock always made his way out onto the deck to watch you swim, run, walk, and just sit on the private stretch of sand, your smile bright even from the house’s deck.

At the moment, you were running from John, your feet slapping against the wet sand at the water’s edge and your arms curled around the ball you had found in the garage. Sherlock smiled as he heard your faint laughter rise from the sand. John wrestled you to the ground swiftly which caused a louder burst of giggles to erupt from you, John’s chuckling following soon after. The urge to just go down there and join the two of you that had become stronger since finishing his cases and was ever present now, however he squashed the thought back, closing his eyes and making it nothing but a dull ache that resided in his heart.

When he opened them again, he saw that the two of you had stopped playing and instead had sat down on the sand with your backs to the sea, your legs tangling in the sand as John let the ocean move around him. He could tell that you two were talking about something important as your smile had faded, but what, he wasn’t sure. You waved to him from the beach and laid beside John. He felt his heart clench painfully. He felt tears rise in his eyes as he waved shakily back to you. There was no way that you could look at him in the same way as he did you, not when he couldn’t even join you on the sand. You were happier with John, he told himself as he stood and made his way back inside when you had begun to play once more, missing the longing in your stare as you searched for him once more.

The tears that wouldn’t fall stung his eyes as he made his way upstairs and into the bathroom. He forcefully pulled his tee shirt over his head and stood facing away from the large mirror over the double vanity. He curled his arms around his exposed torso and screwed his face in pain before he looked over his shoulder. He knew what was coming, the scars that marred his porcelain skin from months of living on the streets followed by torture, endless torture. Long, silvery gnarled lines stretched across and down his back, splotches of angry red tissue appearing in the areas where the tools had cut particularly deep and where his body had healed without modern medicine to aid the process. There were little round burn marks in a cluster on his right side where the monsters had used him as an ashtray, the burns shiny and discoloured from the rest of his skin. He could feel the raised skin of the scar’s ends at his fingertips and he gripped them harder, his fingers turning white as he began to feel pain emanating from them.

He forced his head away from the sight and wrapped his arms around himself tighter, trying to keep the images of long nights and mad eyes from his mind. His eyes were shut and he couldn’t hear anything apart from the beating of his own heart in his head, until the soft gasp from the doorway made all the noise stop.

His blood ran cold and he froze. “Sherlock?”

\-----------------------------------------------

“Sherlock?”

You stood at the doorway with fresh tears coming to your eyes as you took in the sight before you. Sherlock stood there in the room, half of the man you thought you knew, his body curled in on himself and his face a mixture of terror and pain as he stared at the floor. He looked vulnerable, nothing like the stoic detective you had come to know. His face turned away from you and you could see the array of scars littering his back now on his flesh instead of just in the mirror. Your hand came up to cover your mouth as if to keep in the anguish you felt at knowing that one of your best friends had gone through hell alone. “Sher-”

“Y/N, please. Go back to the beach. Go with John. Please.” His voice was quiet and threatened to break with each word, thick with emotions and quivering. “Please. Y-you weren’t meant… meant to see this. To see me… broken. Go with John.”

“I don’t want to go with John.” You felt tears sting your eyes and threaten to fall as he scoffed and turned his back away from you, blocking the scars from your sight. “This is why you wouldn’t come to the beach with us?”

“Of course it is. How could I go out there with these? They’re hideous and need to be hidden from everything, now go!” His voice shook with both his devastation and volume. You could hear the tears through his words and your heart broke as he spoke.

“You really think that? Sherlock-”

“No!” He straightened his body to face you suddenly, his face red with anger but his eyes wet with sadness. “These are monstrous! From a time when I caused pain! When I made the people I care about most hurt when all I wanted to do was save them! They’re a reminder of my failures, of my flaws. Of my weakness.” He deflated as he let out everything. His shoulders fell and his arms curled around himself once more. His voice had broken as he spoke and it was thick with his emotions, raspy and heavy. You stepped tentatively towards him and spoke quietly.

“Sherlock, look at me.” Your voice broke and you felt the lump in your throat grow. “Sherlock please. Please, look at me.” He raised his head minutely and looked down at you through his wet lashes. You looked upon at him and steeled yourself, your face becoming serious as you grasped his bicep. “Sherlock promise me you’ll listen to me. Promise me that you’ll listen carefully.” You implored him, looking up into his eyes with your wide ones.

“I’m listening.” You smiled slightly and moved your hand to trace one of the scars on his back. He flinched a little and you stopped, worried that you had gone too far. When he let out his breath and nodded his head, his eyes screwed shut, you continued to trace the raised skin.

“I don’t know what happened to you during those years away from everyone. I don’t have too. I know that it was horrible, and that it should have never happened to you in the first place.” Your voice had risen and broken at the end of your sentence. Sherlock opened his eyes and looked back down to see you, staring blankly at his chest and blinking away tears and taking some deep breaths as you continued to trace your fingertips gently over the scars. He felt his heart strain at seeing you look so distraught however you sniffled and continued, your voice breaking and thick as you spoke.

“You shouldn’t have ever gone through that, but you did. All to protect those that you love. And that’s not weakness Sherlock. Never weakness and never a flaw. Never. These are not reminders of your failures but of your bravery and of your love and you shouldn’t hide them because you think they’re shameful because they’re not. They’re not.” You closed your eyes tightly and rested your head on his sternum, feeling your chest constrict uncomfortably with emotion. Your arms circled around his waist and your hands traced the scars.

“I know I was never meant to see these Sherlock and I’m sorry that you feel like they’re a burden but I’m not sorry I’ve seen them. They needed to be seen, by people other than you. You need to know that no-one thinks of them as monstrous or hideous. That no-one thinks of you as a failure or weak. You are so strong, Sherl. Stronger than any of us could imagine. Don’t you ever forget that.” Your tears fell from your eyes, tracking their way down your cheeks to land on the tiles below as Sherlock rested his chin on top of your head, his arms coming away from his body and around your frame instead to hold you tightly, anchoring himself to the world instead of getting lost in the tirade of thoughts that swirled in his mind as he shattered. Your tears continued to fall as Sherlock’s began to, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Hey, hey it’s okay Sherl. It’s okay.” He nodded his head vigorously atop yours before he pulled away and bent down enough to look into your eyes. You could see the streaks of tears down his cheeks.

“I’ve never thought of them that way before. I couldn’t think of them that way.” His voice was laden with emotion and sticky as it left his throat. You smiled at him and moved your hands to cup his cheeks, wiping away stray tears from his skin as they fell.

“You’ve always thought too much.”

The kiss was slow and gentle, pouring every emotion you had had for each other into one another. All your love, all his trepidation, all your joy and his relief. Everything you were feeling was channeled from you to him and from him to you. When you broke apart, resting your foreheads against one another and breathing in the same air, you smiled and opened your eyes to see him staring adoringly at you. You smiled back at him but became apprehensive when his loving gaze turned quizzical. You began to back out of the embrace yet he pulled you back in flush against his body.

“No, don’t go. I… I just thought- you and John. You’re not-” Giggling at Sherlock probably didn’t help him gather his thoughts but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“No Sherlock. He’s just a friend. I love him like a brother. You however…” His childlike glee caused you to smile brightly at him. Resting his forehead back against yours, his voice dropped to a whisper as he began to inch his face closer.

“So you... you love me?” He was impossibly close to you as he spoke, his breath wisping against your skin delicately. You could see the slight nervousness in his sea-green eyes yet seeing them swim with love, you felt warm and light as you whispered back.

“There’s no one I could possibly love more.”

You didn’t return to the beach later that day until the sand was pale with starlight and the sea dark with night. It was peaceful on the water’s edge and you felt yourself melt into the ocean as you floated out into the depths with Sherlock by your side, your heart full and his mind, for once, quiet.


End file.
